


What Happened At Midnight

by ssa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-01-14
Updated: 2004-01-14
Packaged: 2017-11-01 05:01:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/352213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Strange things are happening in Smallville.  Big surprise. This was written for the Hardy Boys Challenge and represents our first joint writing project. Nomi's email address: gnomi@world.std.com</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Happened At Midnight

## What Happened At Midnight

by Beth and Nomi

[]()

* * *

The first incident was shrugged off by almost everyone as a high school prank. Who else would have spray painted "Crows Rule!" on the wall of the LuthorCorp regional headquarters building? 

And, for Smallville, it was such a _normal_ prank that it was ignored by large numbers of people. Those that did take notice blamed the football team. 

The second incident was a bit more irregular, though Chloe still didn't think it worthy of the Wall of Weird. But the LuthorCorp plant was such an obvious target for disgruntled employees that a break-in, even a highly destructive one in which nothing was stolen, was not unheard of. 

It wasn't until the third night, when the perpetrator was caught red handed, that the oddities began to be noticed. 

* * *

"Mr. Kent, do you have any comment?" 

"Mr. Kent, what explanation do you have for your actions?" 

"Mr. Kent..." 

Clark couldn't stand to hear any more of the reporters' questions. Yes, it was true that his father had been caught carrying files into the LuthorCorp building's parking lot in the darkest hours of the night, but there must be some rational explanation. And, yes, he had tripped the alarm, causing the sheriff's office to dispatch a team to investigate. But Clark knew his father, and while he wouldn't put it past Jonathan to attempt to steal files from Lionel Luthor, he also knew Jonathan would be smarter than to get caught. 

And there was something just...off about the whole situation, anyway. After all, Clark had been awake all night, working on his history paper in the barn loft, and he hadn't heard the truck start. So his father must have found some way to sneak out, push the truck along the road without alerting Clark, and make it all the way to LuthorCorp without being detected. 

Which, in Clark's estimation, was just too farfetched. 

Since there hadn't been anything of a proprietary nature in the files, and because Lionel was still interested in employing Martha as his assistant, he agreed not to press charges. The local press, however, was having a field day. 

* * *

"Jonathan, really, what were you thinking?" Martha asked the next morning as she prepared breakfast, banging the pots a bit more than was strictly necessary as she went. 

Jonathan shot a reproachful look at his wife. He had a horrendous headache, but he couldn't remember doing anything the previous evening that would have caused it. In fact, everything about the previous evening was a blur. 

Another pot lid banged into place as Martha said, "Are you going to answer my question, Jonathan? We're really quite lucky that Lionel didn't choose to press charges, you know. He was well within his rights." 

"Press charges?" It was the first thing that Martha had said that made any sense to him at all. "Don't expect me to say thank you to that - that - " 

"That'll be quite enough out of you, mister. And here we've always worried about Clark accidentally bringing trouble down on the family. Instead, it's you, deliberately, doing it." Martha slammed a plate down in front of her husband and stalked off to wake her son. 

Jonathan stared after her, wondering when and how precisely his morning had gone so completely wrong. 

* * *

Clark shifted foot to foot, waiting for someone to open the back door for the produce delivery. He wasn't sure, given his father's recent behavior, that he would be welcome at the castle, but the order hadn't been cancelled, so here he was. 

Just as he was about to give up, the door to the kitchen, opened and Marie smiled at him. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Clark. I was kneading bread dough. You know how tricky that can be." 

"Yes ma'am." Clark shouldered his way into the kitchen, hefting his burden carefully. 

"Just put the box on the counter, dear. What have you brought me today?" 

"Tomatoes. Zucchini. Baby greens. I think Mom tucked some fresh basil in, too." 

"No fruit?" A new voice drawled from the doorway. 

Clark turned and grinned at his friend. "We didn't forget your sweet tooth, Lex. We have a couple of pints of berries and some peaches." 

"Wonderful." Lex turned toward the hall, then looked over his shoulder. "Coming?" 

"I - yeah, sure. I've got some time." Clark loped after his friend, glad to see that his father's activities hadn't soured his friendship with Lex. 

After a couple of games of pool, Lex stopped to get himself a drink. "Would you like a soda, Clark?" 

"Sure. Thanks, Lex." Clark leaned against the table as Lex pulled a bottle of water and a can of Coke from the refrigerator. 

"So . . . what _was_ your father hoping to accomplish?" Lex studied Clark with interest. 

"Accomplish?" Clark stammered. "I - I don't know what you're talking about, Lex." 

Lex looked at him, unbelieving. "Don't lie to me, Clark. Your father has never made any secret of the fact that he doesn't trust my family." 

While Clark did not like that it was so, he could not deny the truth of Lex's statement. Instead, he waited to see what Lex would do or say next. 

Lex strolled back toward Clark and handed him the Coke, then walked back toward the pool table. He picked up the 8-ball, turning it slowly in his hands as he spoke. 

"None of the files that your father took were of consequence. They were mostly personnel files, and for low-level personnel at that. You already know that we're not going to press charges, so why don't you - friend to friend - just tell me what your father was looking for." 

Clark looked around the room, at his feet, at the desk; anywhere but at Lex. And his response, when it came, was terse. "I don't know." Finally, he looked directly at Lex. "Really. Honestly, Lex. I don't know why my father was there. And, I think, neither does he." 

"What?" That was clearly not what Lex had been expecting. 

"I know my father, Lex. And you're right - he doesn't like you. And he really doesn't like your father. But he's up front about that. This...this is too underhanded for him, and I don't think he knew he was doing it." 

"I'm sorry, Clark, but I can't bring that to the board, they're already questioning why we didn't press charges. Go home, talk to your father, and try to find out what the real story is." He turned back toward his desk, reinforcing his verbal dismissal. 

"Lex..." 

"Not now, Clark." Lex picked up a folder and began to look through it. Once he was certain Clark had left the room, he added softly, "I'm sorry." 

Dejected, Clark headed back toward the Kent farm. He had dinner, took his homework out to his Fortress of Solitude in the barn, and attempted to concentrate on European History, but to no avail. His mind just couldn't reconcile what he knew of his father with the man's recent actions. 

"Yo, Clark," Pete called from down below, pulling Clark from his tangled thoughts. 

"Hey, Pete. Come on up." When Pete had cleared the top of the stairs, Clark continued, "What's up?" 

"You won't believe what I heard this morning. After I heard about your dad, I just had to tell you." 

"What?" 

"Remember the spray-painting over at LuthorCorp? They matched the prints on the paint cans to Max Pierce and Chuck Anderson, and they're threatening to throw them off the basketball team." 

"That sounds normal to me," Clark responded, remembering past incidents involving athletes and the resulting punishments. 

"I haven't gotten to the weird part yet. The guys? They say they don't remember a thing about how they got to the plant, where they got the paint, or even of actually painting the side of the building. They say that everything's a blank until they were back home, cleaning paint off their hands." 

"Really?" Clark was rapidly processing the possibility that, rather than an isolated problem with his Dad, something weird was afoot in Smallville. "That's really strange. My Dad said the same thing." 

"Strange things? Happening in Smallville? Alert the media," Pete chuckled. "No, wait. I'm sure Chloe is already on this one." 

Clark nodded thoughtfully, and then looked at his friend. "Want to shoot some hoops?" 

"I don't have time. I was supposed to be home twenty minutes ago. Next time?" Pete asked as he headed toward the stairs leading away from Clark's Fortress. 

"Sure," Clark said with a grin. He waited until he heard Pete's car start and then headed down himself. Clark considered going straight to Lex with his latest discovery, but Lex's reluctance to listen before would only increase given his disdain for high school athletes in general, and Smallville athletes specifically. 

After considering his options, Clark decided to head over to Max's house. Neither of the athletes were close friends of his, but Max's dad was a friend of Clark's dad, so he could use that connection. 

When Clark arrived at the Pierce farm, he found Max mucking out stalls. He grabbed a pitchfork and started to help. 

Max glanced up when he heard someone assisting him, and frowned when he saw Clark. "What are you doing here, Kent?" 

Clark looked at him innocently. "Mucking out a stall?" 

"Look. I'm already in more trouble than I need. The old man will kill me if he thinks I talked you into helping me with my chores." 

Clark leaned on the handle and nodded. "Yeah, I know how it is. I really need to ask you a couple of questions." 

"I'll tell you what I told the cops: I don't know anything about how my prints got on those cans of paint. I don't remember painting anything. All I know is I had paint on my hands the next day." 

"But you don't remember anything?" 

"What the fuck did I just tell you, Kent? I don't remember anything until I woke up the next morning. Now get out of here before my old man catches you." Max turned back to the stall he was cleaning. 

Clark put the other pitchfork back and started to leave, but stopped when he remembered his other question. "Max?" 

"I thought I told you to get the hell out." 

"You did. Look, my Dad was caught coming out of the plant last night with some files. He doesn't remember anything either." 

"He doesn't?" 

"No. I was wondering - did you feel weird the other morning? Did you eat or drink anything unusual the night before that you remember?" 

"I don't remember anything after practice that afternoon, but I woke up the next morning with a really bad headache." 

"Thanks, Max. For what it's worth, I hope you don't get kicked off the team." 

"Thanks, Kent. It's a lost cause though, I think." Max grimaced and turned back to his work. 

Clark was just heading toward Chuck's place when he thought he heard Lex's voice. He concentrated harder, focusing his hearing as best as he could on the castle. 

"No Dad - I don't know what's prompted all of these attacks. . . . Yes, I am looking into it. . . . No, I haven't lost control of the situation." Lex slammed the phone down. "Nice talking to you too, Dad." 

Clark smiled at the irony he heard in Lex's voice and the sound of liquid hitting a glass. Then Clark heard the creak of the office door opening and someone walking quietly across the floor. 

"What are -" Lex said, but his voice was cut off by a dull thud. 

Clark looked around to make sure no one was watching, and then raced at super speed to arrive at the castle in moments. He ran up the stairs to Lex's private office and found his friend crumpled on the floor with blood dripping from his scalp. 

Clark shifted his vision to x-ray to check for damage to Lex's skull, but could find no fracture. He was, however, unconscious, which Clark knew was a bad thing. Lex had taken several significant hits to the head over the years, and the risk of concussion was greater now than it had been earlier. 

The cut on Lex's head was shallow, but a large bruise was beginning to surround it. Clark took off his flannel shirt and dabbed at the cut to see whether Lex would need stitches or not. The edges of the wound were already beginning to seal - testament to Lex's healing abilities - so Clark picked Lex up gingerly and laid him down on the couch with Clark's shirt pillowing his head. 

He'd learned from previous experiences that Lex really resented the presence of rescue workers when he awoke, so he tried not to lose his head as he had once before. He knew, if worst came to worst, he could always get help quickly if Lex needed it. The only outward sign of Clark's anxiety was the occasional tapping of his fingers on the edge of the couch. There was nothing more for Clark to do at this point but wait for Lex to wake up. 

* * *

Lex shifted his body carefully as he began to swim back to consciousness. His first clear thought was that his head hurt - again. 

He reached up and scrubbed a hand over his face. "I've really got to get out of this place before my brain is mush," he muttered. Lex's surliness was typical, calming Clark somewhat. 

He heard the sudden intake of breath and cautiously opened one eye. Clark's concerned face was hovering over him. 

"Lex?" 

"You know you're supposed to ask me my name, not tell it to me, Clark." 

"What?" 

"With the potentially concussed - you ask them if they know their name and where they are," Lex said with a small smirk. 

"Oh. Sorry. It's been a while since the last time you were knocked out." Clark looked perplexed. "Do you know how it happened this time?" 

Lex frowned in concentration for a minute. "I was . . . oh, I'd just hung up on my father. He's _concerned_ about the problems we've been having at the plant." Lex rolled his eyes at Clark. "I hung up the phone. Poured a drink, and then, well, I woke up and you were here. Come to think of it, how did you get in here?" 

"I, um, walked in." Clark stared at the floor for a second. "So you don't remember anything about who hit you or with what?" 

"No. I don't." Lex started to get up off the couch, but Clark pressed him back down with a large hand. "Clark. I need to get up. Two people have gotten past my _new_ security team in under an hour; I think I have a problem here." 

"We'll deal with that later." Clark's tone brooked no argument, even from someone as used to getting his own way as Lex. "First of all, is anything missing?" 

"I'd have to get up to check and see, Clark." Lex frowned at the hand that was still holding him down. 

"Look around the room - anything obviously missing or out of place?" Clark frowned and scanned the room carefully as Lex eased up from the couch and did the same. "Hey, Alexander the Great is gone." 

"I'm standing right here," Lex responded sardonically. 

"I meant the statue, Lex. Your bust of Alexander the Great isn't on the mantle," Clark said, pointing to the empty space where the statue usually resided. "That could be what hit you on the head." 

Lex rubbed at the bump rising on the back of his head. "That bust is heavy enough to account for the pain I'm feeling. But why would anyone want to steal that? It has no value other than sentimental value." 

Clark thought for a minute. "Lex, none of the incidents have involved anything valuable. The spray-paint was annoying to you but not expensive to undo. My dad wasn't carrying any valuable files. The statue has only sentimental value. I think whoever's behind this wants to send you a message more than to actually harm you." 

"Bump on my head notwithstanding," Lex clarified. 

"Right. Except for that." Clark had the decency to look embarrassed for momentarily forgetting the attack on Lex. "I don't suppose you have any idea who would want to teach you a lesson, do you?" 

"Your father. My father. The population at large. I think we have more than a few candidates," Lex said with a wry grin. 

"Have you pissed anyone off lately?" 

Lex snorted. "The list of who I haven't pissed off is shorter." 

"I don't understand that. You're such a good person. I don't see why more people don't get it." 

"You're prejudiced because you're my friend, Clark." Lex couldn't keep the rueful tone out of his voice. He'd often wanted more from Clark, but had become resigned in the last few months to only having a friendship with the other young man. 

Clark studied his friend carefully. The signals he'd gotten from Lex over the years had always confused him, and the way Lex's voice had broken on the word friend put him on alert again. He placed a hand on Lex's shoulder and said, "I'm always going to believe in you." 

Lex stared at Clark, startled by both the action and the emotion behind the simple statement. "I - uh -" 

"This might be the first time I've ever seen you speechless." Clark felt a sudden spark of confidence and leaned in. "I hate when you're injured. I should be used to it by now, but I'm not." Clark moved as close as he dared and held his breath, waiting to see if Lex would make the next move. 

Lex didn't move for a whole minute, while Clark began to question his interpretation of Lex's signals. Just as Clark convinced himself that he'd misread Lex, that he was confusing reality with his fantasies, Lex leaned in and kissed him lightly on the lips, then pulled back. 

"You want this, right?" Lex said. 

"I've wanted this for a long time, Lex. Probably since that day at the bridge." Clark's confidence was back, and he reached out, encircling Lex's neck with his arms. "Now, do you want to try that again?" 

This time, the kiss was deep and exploring, two friends finally allowing themselves free rein with each other. Despite the strength Lex knew was there, Clark's hold was very gentle. Lex longed to see just how far Clark was willing to go, but just as he was preparing to move beyond simple kissing, he heard a throat being cleared. 

"Excuse me for the interruption, sir." Marie stood in the doorway. "Clark's parents called looking for him, and I told them that he would be on his way shortly." 

Clark blushed and immediately tried to move away, but Lex held him around the waist. "Thank you, Marie," Lex said. 

Knowing she was dismissed, Marie headed back toward the kitchen, and Lex finally released his hold on Clark, who took two paces backward. He couldn't think clearly while that close to Lex. 

"What -" Lex stared at Clark with a bemused expression. 

"We've got to sort this situation out first, Lex." Clark made sure his disappointment with the shift was clear in his voice and on his face. 

Lex's disappointment was obvious, but he quickly shifted into his more calculating persona. "So, does that mean you have an idea about what's going on here?" 

"I know you're going to think I'm only saying this because I'm Jonathan Kent's son, but I'm beginning to think that maybe there's someone closer to you who's doing all this." 

"What are you trying to say, Clark? Be honest." Lex's looked sharply at Clark, daring him to look away. 

But Clark was ready for that. "I think your father is involved somehow. I can't begin to say how, but I think he's behind all this." 

"What would motivate my father to sabotage his own company?" Lex asked. 

"Maybe he wants to make you look weak, make you look like a bad plant manager? Like I said, until this attack on you, there was no real damage caused by any of these attacks." 

"Say I believe that, Clark. How do you explain the actual incidents?" Clark looked at Lex quizzically. "What I mean is, your father would be the last person to do what my father wanted him to do. And my father would not be involved with either lowly high school students like the ones who perpetrated the first attack or common thugs like the ones who attacked me. I am assuming, obviously, that I was attacked by non-professionals." 

Clark shuddered at the thought of what might have happened had Lex's attackers been better at their jobs. 

"So there has to be someone else, a go-between from your dad to the...um..." Clark was not willing to call his father a criminal, even if that was what he technically was. 

"So who would that intermediary be? Who would be a confidante of both your father and your school peers?" 

"I don't know," Clark admitted. "But I can try to find out who, if anyone, my father talked to right before he went to LuthorCorp that night. If my mom is right, though, he's not going to remember anything. And my conversation with Max Pierce wasn't useful at all." 

"You went and spoke to Pierce?" Clark could not tell from Lex's tone if he was angry or worried. 

"I needed more information. I didn't want my father to be blamed for a crime he didn't remember committing, and I hoped that Max would be able to shed some light on how he came to be accused. Unfortunately, he couldn't - or wouldn't - tell me what I needed to know." 

"Clark, don't take stupid chances with this. For one thing, if you're found stirring up trouble, it can only hurt your father's case. Second, I have many more sources who are much better at acquiring information that I need, without questioning why I want it. Let me handle this for now, and I'll let you know what I find out." 

"No, Lex," Clark said vehemently. "My father's future is on the line. There's no way I'm going to just sit back and let you figure it out, no matter how much I trust you. I have to be involved." 

"So will you promise me something?" Lex asked. 

"Depends. What is it?" 

"You won't do anything foolish, anything that will get you hurt or into trouble." 

"I promise to try. Is that good enough?" 

Lex sighed. "I guess it will have to be. Look, do you have any friends - ones who won't try to hurt you - that you could ask for information?" 

"If anyone knows anything, it would be Chloe. And she said she'd be over at the 'Torch' today getting things ready for the new editor. I can go talk to her." 

"I'll come with you," Lex said, wary of letting Clark out of his sight. If Lionel was involved, it would be best if Clark stayed as far away as possible. 

* * *

By the time Lionel heard the news, it was almost too late to salvage his plans. 

"There were a couple of...snags in the burglary, Mr. Luthor," Dominic said cautiously. 

"Snags? I don't want to hear about snags." 

"The Kent boy got involved. He found Lex after the unfortunate incident this afternoon." 

" _What_ unfortunate incident?" Lionel asked. 

"Lex was injured during the burglary. There is no evidence of serious injury, but the Kent boy arrived and found Lex unconscious just after the burglars left. I'm afraid that this will be deleterious to your plans." 

"What I don't understand is how my son was injured. It was supposed to be a simple burglary - taking place at a time when he was supposed to be asleep," Lionel growled into the phone. 

"I think, sir, that you picked the wrong person for that mission," Dominic replied. 

"How was I to know that she wouldn't be patient and wait until the appointed time to open the envelope?" 

"She is a reporter -- albeit for a high school paper -- but still, curiosity is part of the package." 

Lionel grumbled but acknowledged the truth in Dominic's statement. "Fine. Do you have the next package ready for delivery?" 

"I do, sir, but I think caution would be best now. Your son and his - friend - are becoming curious. Perhaps we should wait a few days." 

"I'm not interested in your opinions. Lex is an emotional young man; if we increase the pressure just a bit more, he _will_ fold and come to Metropolis as I wish." 

"I think if you waited a few more months you might find that he would come willingly." 

"Why?" 

"His young friend will begin attending Metropolis University this fall. I believe that would be enough enticement to bring him to heel - so to speak." 

"Ah, but I do not want that young friend to exert any more influence over my son than he already does. In fact, if everything goes according to my plan, he will cease to have any influence over Lex." 

"So I should implement the next step, then?" 

"Wait a day and then proceed." Lionel hung up the phone with a small smile. It was good to be Lionel Luthor. 

* * *

Clark led Lex into the 'Torch' office, where - as predicted - they found Chloe. 

"Hey, Chloe, what's going on?" Clark asked. 

"Honestly, Clark? I have no idea," Chloe responded. "I...I have no idea how I'm in this office right now." 

Lex looked at Clark and then asked, "What's the last thing you do remember?" 

"Well, I was at home, and I was talking to Lana, and it was right after lunch, and then I was here and it was almost 5. I have no memory of what I did during those four hours, and all I have to go on is this bruise on my wrist." 

Clark looked closely at the bruise. "Does it hurt?" he asked. 

"A little, but not too bad. It's like someone grabbed my wrist and held on tight for a minute but then let go." 

This time, it was Clark who shot Lex a look. 

"Hang on a second," Clark said suddenly. "Did you say that the last thing you remember was that you were with Lana?" 

"Yeah. We were talking about our plans to go clothes shopping for the beginning of school and when we'd both be able to go." 

"And then?" Lex asked. 

"And then...nothing. I'm here; I have no idea how I got here; and I'm getting a little weirded out by it." 

"So maybe Lana knows what happened," Clark said excitedly. "Lex, this might just be the break we need." 

"Huh?" Chloe asked. 

"Don't worry, Chloe," Lex said. "We might just be able to figure out why some things have been happening around here." 

They left the school building and headed out toward the parking lot. "Hey, Chloe, we'll just go in Lex's car and come back for yours, OK?" 

Chloe took a look around the lot. "I don't think my car is here, Clark. Again, I have no clue how I got here. Or where I was coming from." 

"Maybe Lana will be able to shed some light for us," Lex responded, opening the car for Chloe and Clark. 

"I hope so," Clark responded. 

Lex drove at a reasonable clip but still within the speed limits, not wishing to be delayed by Sheriff's deputies pulling him over for traffic violations. Within ten minutes, they were pulling up in front of the Sullivan home. Lana was sitting on the porch, telephone in hand, but she jumped up the minute she saw who was emerging from the car. 

"Chloe, thank goodness," Lana said, running down the front stairs. "Your father and I have been so worried." 

"Thanks, Ma," Chloe said jokingly, but she gratefully accepted the warm hug that Lana gave her. "I'm sorry I worried you both." 

"Well, you disappeared so soon after you opened the letter, and I didn't know where you'd gone, or whether or not you'd gone of with that guy, so I called your father. He's been on the phone to all our classmates and even to the Sheriff's office since I called him." 

"I'll go tell him I'm fine," Chloe said, turning and running into the house. 

As Chloe disappeared into the house, Clark turned toward Lana. "What guy? What happened this afternoon?" 

"Well," Lana said, "that guy who works for Lex's father - the one who's always next to him at press conferences - came by. I was in the bathroom, so all I saw was his back as he went down the stairs, but I'd heard his voice and knew it was him. When I came back from the bathroom, Chloe was holding a letter and had the oddest look on her face. Then she dropped the letter and bolted, and that's the last I'd seen of her until you three drove up." 

"What's Dominic doing giving letters to high school students?" Lex wondered aloud. 

"I have no idea," Clark responded. "Hey, Lana? Do you know what happened to the letter after Chloe left?" 

"Yeah - I picked it up and put it aside. I didn't read it at all," Lana had learned from the diary fiasco to keep away from anything of Chloe's that looked at all personal. 

"So the letter is still upstairs?" Clark asked. 

"It should be. And the envelope, too - I didn't even look at it, just put it aside for whenever Chloe got back." 

With Lana in the lead, they headed into the house and up to Chloe's room. As soon as they crossed the threshold, Clark began feeling light headed. 

"Lex?" Clark said weakly. 

"Yes, Clark?" 

"Can you look in the envelope? Is there anything in there?" Clark remained in the bedroom doorway while Lana and Lex headed for the bedside table, where the letter and its envelope lay. 

"There's some orange dust here...and on the letter," Lex said, gingerly holding both items by their corners only. 

"Lex, please read the letter," Clark said. 

"It's one line - 'Remove Alexander the Great from Luthor Manor.'" 

Clark shuddered, contemplating the ways the burglar - Chloe, to be exact - might have interpreted that statement. 

"I know that handwriting, Clark," Lex said. "This note was written by Dominic. And if I know Dominic, he was just carrying out my father's commands." 

"We should go to your Dad with what we know, Lex," Clark said excitedly. "And we have to find Dominic and stop him from doing anything else to anyone else!" 

"Slow down, Clark," Lex said. "We can't just waltz into LuthorCorp headquarters and accuse my father of crimes we can't prove he was involved in." 

"But we could go over to the plant and - while you're distracting security - I could search for how he's doing all this." Clark frowned. "But what if there's nothing to find?" 

"It's not cost effective to have Dominic running back and forth between Metropolis and here. However my father is doing this, it has to be here." Lex smiled grimly. "You have to be sure they don't catch you. Tying you to another act of vandalism at the plant would just hurt your father's case." 

"Believe me," Clark said, "I can be in and out of there without them even seeing me." 

* * *

Lex strolled into his outer office.

"Your father's in there," Darlene said mildly. "He and Dominic arrived about an hour ago." 

Lex was grateful for the warning - it gave him opportunity to hide his surprise that Lionel was not still in Metropolis. Once he was ready, he opened the door to his inner office and entered as nonchalantly as possible. 

He stifled his irritation at seeing his father prowling through Lex's carefully arranged files. Both Dominic and Lionel were busy going over papers, but looked up at Lex's approach. 

"Son, what brings you here?" 

"This is my office, or so I thought." Lex flicked a casual glance at the papers his father was studying. "Find anything interesting?" 

"We're going over the quarterly budget. Can you explain the cost projections for employee healthcare? Your estimate for the quarter is fully a third higher than any other plant in the region," Lionel observed. 

"This is Smallville, Dad. I think we should consider ourselves fortunate that it's only a third." Lex held up a hand to silence his father's objections. "The plant isn't responsible for the problems here, but many of the workers suffer from unusual illnesses that require extensive treatment. Unless we alter the healthcare plan, we have to expect the expenditures in that area to run higher than in most other areas of the country." 

"I see," Lionel replied, barely able to conceal his desire to cut the health benefits for his workers. "And you, Lex, how have you been faring in this strange hamlet?" 

Lex met his father's gaze straight on. "I'm doing well. I've come to enjoy the pleasures of the simple country life." 

"I see. And here I thought you'd be begging to return to Metropolis." 

"I think we've proven - numerous times - that Metropolis isn't big enough for the both us." Lex smiled knowingly. "At this point though, Dad, I've decided I will return to Metropolis on my own terms - not on sufferance from you." 

* * *

Clark used Lex's passkey to get into the building. Once inside he used his super speed to get past the cameras and other security devices on his way to the office Dominic used when he was in town. He and Lex agreed that Dominic lacked the imagination or the initiative to find another place to hide his activities.

The door to the spare office was locked, but the lock was no match for Clark's strength. It gave way silently and he let himself inside, closing the door silently behind him. At first glance, Clark didn't see anything suspicious. And he wasn't feeling any of the symptoms he'd experienced at Chloe's house, so he began to worry he'd been wrong. 

Clark used his x-ray vision to inspect the desk drawers and found one he couldn't penetrate. He figured that would be where Dominic would hide anything suspicious. Lex had mentioned that this desk had been delivered from headquarters, and that no one had been allowed near it save Dominic. Clark moved toward the desk, hoping the drawer was unlocked but knowing that he could break in if it wasn't. He tested the handle gingerly and felt it give with just a normal amount of force. As soon as he opened it, however, he began to feel woozy. 

Clark tried to force the uneasiness down as he continued to slide the drawer open further. The further the drawer was opened, the more ill Clark felt. He saw a folder and reached in to pull it out even as his skin began to react to the proximity of what had to be kryptonite. As soon as he pulled the folder out, he saw an orange glow. He started to reach for it, but then realized he didn't know what this one might do to him. His experiences with the red kryptonite made him more than a little leery of picking up the rocks. 

If these were the source of the orange powder, Clark thought, he couldn't leave them. But handling them was also not possible. He slid the drawer shut carefully so as not to engage the lock, so he could inspect the contents of the folder first. It clearly wouldn't have been in the drawer if it weren't related to the rocks. 

"Meteor Rock and Human Susceptibility," he read off the top sheet. What followed were pages of formulas that Clark's high school calculus and physics hadn't prepared him to understand. The conclusions, however, were clear. The rocks were so potent that even their dust affected people's ability to think for themselves. Were the rocks refined and transmitted to the unwitting public, the effects could be devastating. Luthor, and by extension LuthorCorp, was working on a method of distribution through bottled water. 

Clark knew he had to destroy not only the Kryptonite itself but the file, as well. He figured that his heat vision would allow him to stand out of range of the sickening effects of the rock. He pulled the drawer open again and slid the folder back into place, then backed away quickly to minimize the effects of the rocks. He focused his gaze on the folder and allowed his heat vision to work its magic. Although the folder incinerated immediately, the rocks took a bit more time; within five minutes, however, he had accomplished what he had set out to do. 

Clark closed the drawer and attempted to make things look as much like they had when he came in as he could. He was so excited that he had completed his task undetected that he tripped over a small area rug and thudded into the office door. 

* * *

Lex was rapidly losing patience with his father, the lackey, and with Clark. He'd been subjected to lengthy diatribes on healthcare and the destruction of the free enterprise system as his father deconstructed every piece of the budget that Lex had worked on for weeks. How long could it possibly take for Clark to either find or not find evidence? The office Dominic used simply wasn't that large.

Just as Lex allowed a small, exasperated sigh escape, he noticed his father begin to show obvious signs of agitation. "Is something wrong, Dad?" 

Lionel looked up - distracted. "Nothing, son. Dominic, I think you need to go to your office; I need to speak with Alexander alone." 

Lex immediately squashed the panic that Clark was going to be discovered. "There's nothing that you need to say to me that you couldn't say in front of Dominic, Dad. That's what you always tell me, anyway." 

Lionel looked at Dominic for just a moment then said, "Just this once, Lex, I think we need true privacy." Lionel nodded toward the door, and Dominic pushed his chair back from the conference table he and Lex were seated at. 

Lex got up too. He walked around to his desk and noticed a small blinking light on one corner. A silent alarm, he thought. Great. Just great. 

Lex blinked twice and looked coolly at his father. "You know that light has just about driven me nuts over the last few weeks." 

Dominic stopped before exiting the office. 

"What do you mean, Lex?" Lionel enquired. 

"It blinks off and on all the damned time. I haven't been able to figure out what it's for, but clearly it's malfunctioning - whatever it is." 

Lex felt the phone in his pocket vibrate. This was his cue that Clark was clear of the building and heading back to the castle. "As much as I've enjoyed our encounter, Dad, I have other things to do. Please put things back as you found them when you leave." 

Lex turned and walked out the door. 

* * *

Lex struggled to contain his rage as he searched the castle grounds for Clark. After all, it was hardly Clark's fault that Lex's father was so devious. He knew Clark was around somewhere, as he had parked behind the Kent truck. When he finally found Clark in the back garden of the castle, he demanded, "Why the hell are we out here?"

Clark blinked, surprised by the barely checked anger he could see in Lex's eyes. "After your last adventures with your dad and listening devices, I though we might want to talk somewhere he wouldn't think to bug." 

Lex felt a bit mollified. He just had to keep reminding himself that Clark was no match for Lionel when it came to deceit. He took a deep breath and asked calmly, "So what did you find?" 

Clark glanced at his watch, and grinned, "Wow. Took almost a whole minute for you to ask." 

"Clark!" Lex could feel the simmering rage start to bubble back to life. He was most certainly not in the mood to be toyed with. 

"I think I deserve a kiss first. I mean, I risked life and limb to figure out what's going on here." 

Lex felt it the second his control snapped. "You have _no_ idea how right you are." 

Clark paled visibly. "What do you mean?" 

"Guess who was waiting for me when I got to my office?" Lex held up a hand when it appeared that Clark was going to interrupt. "No. Wait. I'll tell you. My father. He was sitting at _my_ desk. Reading _my_ files. I endured a microscopic examination of my budget, and just when I thought things couldn't get worse, my father suddenly wants to talk to me _alone_. He says that Dominic has foolishly left something in his office that Dad now needs. And I'm thinking -- that's not a good idea because that's where Clark is. And then I walk around to the other side of my desk and see a little light blinking on it. You tripped some sort of silent alarm in Dominic's office that's linked to my office. It took some seriously fast talking on my part to keep them from tearing down to that office and finding you red handed." 

"Actually," Clark said, trying to lighten the mood a bit, "in this case it would have been orange-handed." 

"Clark," Lex bellowed, "if you'd gotten caught, I can't imagine what my father would have done to you." 

Clark was taken aback. He couldn't remember a time that Lex had ever spoken so sharply to him. "I'm sorry, Lex. I really tried to be careful." 

"What the hell happened? You said you could do it undetected." 

"It was flawless. Until I tripped on the rug." Clark grimaced at his own clumsiness. 

Lex couldn't help it. He laughed. 

Clark grinned. "So, am I forgiven?" 

"I don't know. Maybe a kiss would make it all seem better," Lex hinted broadly. 

Clark grinned wider and then leaned in to kiss Lex. "There. Better now?" 

"I'll be completely better when you tell me what you found." 

"Well, I found the meteor rocks your dad must have used to make the powder." 

"Where are they now?" 

"I got rid of them. Don't worry about how - no one else can be influenced by them." Clark smiled as he remembered how the orange, glowing rocks had disintegrated under his heat gaze. 

"Did you figure out why he was doing it?" 

"Mind control." Clark's voice was grim. He went on to explain what he understood of the contents of the report he had read. "His scientists had discovered that this variety of meteor rock would let him convince people to do things they wouldn't ordinarily do: like my Dad breaking into the plant." 

"Leave it to my father." Lex frowned. "We should probably put your father out of his misery. At least, he should know that he was acting under the influence of meteor rocks." 

"Yeah. Are you coming with me?" 

"I wouldn't miss this for the world, Clark. Lead the way," Lex held out a hand and waved Clark past him. He trailed behind, eyeballing his friend's ass as he headed toward the driveway and the car. 

* * *

Jonathan's gaze shifted between Lex and Clark. He knew something had changed between them, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. He was also struggling to understand what they were telling him. "So Lionel was behind this? You're sure?" 

"Yes, my father thought that he could _persuade_ me into moving back to Metropolis - under his thumb - by making it appear that the citizens of Smallville had completely turned against LuthorCorp and, by extension, me." Lex maintained a neutral expression. On the ride over, he and Clark had agreed not to mention the report on mind control that Clark had found. 

"But I still don't understand how he did it." Martha set cups of coffee in front of each of the men and then pulled up a seat at the table. 

"We can't actually tie it to him, Mom." Clark concentrated on not letting his voice give away his lie. If his parents knew how close Lionel was getting to _all_ of Clark's secrets, they would never allow him to spend any time with Lex at all. They might even forbid his attending Met U. 

"Dominic certainly wasn't acting of his own accord," Lex said snidely. While they had agreed not to divulge everything, Lex couldn't resist the small attack on Dominic. 

"Right, but he won't implicate your father even though -- except for the attack on you -- nothing done was actually illegal since it was ordered by the head of the corporation." 

"Back to my question, boys: how did Dominic or Lionel persuade all of these people to attack Lex and the plant?" Martha took another sip of her coffee as she waited for her answer. 

"Actually, it turns out it was a lot easier than you might think. We've known that Mr. Luthor has a collection of the green meteor rocks," Clark began. "Well it seems that there are other kinds of meteor rock as well." 

Jonathan nodded. "Like the red that causes people to lose their inhibitions." 

"Right. Well, Mr. Luthor found another variety and he figured out what it does." 

"Apparently this variety makes the person exposed extremely susceptible to suggestion. You can just imagine what my father could do with that." Lex grimaced and then continued, "My father, or someone working for him, ground this variety to a powder and then sprinkled it in letters that he had Dominic deliver to various members of the community. Like you, Mr. Kent." 

"But I'd remember receiving a letter," Jonathan protested. 

"That's the interesting part about this variety, Dad. It completely wipes the mind of the victim after about four hours. They have no recollection of what they did while under its influence or when or how they came into contact with it." 

"Do you think he has more of this type?" Martha asked. 

Lex's smile was dangerous. "We -- or rather Clark -- destroyed all of it, we think." 

Mrs. Kent's eyebrows rose suspiciously. She studied her son to see if she could determine what, if anything, he had told the younger Luthor. His face was closed to her - something she was definitely not used to. "Is there anything else that you need to tell us, boys?" 

Clark could feel the blush rising in his cheeks even as he willed it down. Lex showed virtually no sign of response to Martha's question save the smallest tick at the corner of his left eye. 

Jonathan pushed away from the table before anyone answered his wife. "Son, we have chores to do before it gets dark. Assuming, that is, you're finished playing detective with Lex." 

"Uh, yeah, right, Dad." Clark also pushed his chair back and looked to Lex. "Coming?" 

"I do have some work to get done at the office," Lex allowed as he too eased away from the table, leaving Martha's question hanging in the air. 

As the boys crossed the yard to Lex's Porsche, Lex asked quietly, "So will I see you tonight?" 

"I'd love to come over and watch  The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen tonight," Clark said loudly. "Hey, Dad - when I get my chores done . . ." 

"Yes, son. When they're done, you can go watch the movie. Just don't stay too late," Jonathan cautioned. 

"Thanks, Dad." Clark grinned at Lex. "So I'll see you later then." 

"Guess I'll be chasing down a copy of that movie so we're not lying to your parents anymore than we already have," Lex commented dryly as he slid into his car. 

Clark waved as Lex pulled away. It had been a good few days: they'd cleared his father, protected the citizens of Smallville from Lionel's nefarious plan, and discovered that love was closer than they thought. 

**END**


End file.
